Running into the wind
It has been a difficult week for running in my corner of the world. My efforts involve getting up onto the Howgill fells but this week the wind has been blowing out of the east. That means, as usual, it is cold and it is making running particularly grim. Wind has to be the biggest enemy when outside trying to make progress. It's not just the sheer physical exertion required to battle into it or the way it strips body heat. Neither of which should be under-estimated. It's the enemy of rhythm. There is little chance to find any flow as you are knocked about and buffeted. It's just a struggle and each instance seems to last longer. There is no quieting of the mind, no sudden realisation that you've covered the last section without noticing. Just grind. If running was always like this, no one would do it.
I'm tempted to draw some extended metaphor here - but you can do that for yourself. I suppose some things in life have to be fought moment to moment.